Congratulations

The engine of my Porsche GT3 RS roared beneath me as I shifted gears, the smooth hum of the road beneath the tires was like music to my ears.

Driving was one of the few things that still gave me a sense of peace, a moment to just... breathe. I gripped the steering wheel, feeling the leather beneath my fingers, and accelerated slightly, enjoying the rush as the car responded effortlessly.

The sleek black exterior of the Porsche reflected the evening lights of the city as I drove, the world outside a blur of movement and colors.

New York's skyline was stunning, but I preferred the quiet roads leading out to the countryside, the way the trees framed the road, the orange hues of the sunset stretching across the sky.

There was something calming about being in my own space, in my own world. I glanced at the dashboard everything was perfectly in place, from the gleaming dials to the soft glow of the touchscreen. Luxurious, yet simple, just the way I liked it.

I pressed down on the accelerator again, letting the engine growl as I sped down the empty stretch of road, the city far behind me now.

My thoughts wandered, as they always did when I drove alone. The award ceremony was over, and as much as I pretended not to care, there was a small part of me that felt satisfied validated even.

But now, I was just glad to be heading home alone.

Home. The word held a strange meaning for me. I lived in a sprawling villa outside the city, a place that was more my parents' than mine, though they were rarely there.

But my grandmother? She made it home. She always had.

As I pulled into the long driveway, the villa loomed in front of me, its grandeur almost oppressive.

The tall iron gates creaked open, revealing the elegant stone façade bathed in the soft glow of garden lights.

The place looked like something out of an architectural magazine modern, with sleek lines, enormous glass windows, and white stone walls.

But no matter how impressive it looked, it always felt... empty.

I parked the Porsche in the garage, turning off the engine and sitting in the silence for a moment.

The air outside was crisp, the evening breeze carrying the scent of pine and fresh grass. I stepped out of the car, my heels clicking on the stone driveway as I made my way to the front door.

The key slid into the lock with ease, and I pushed the heavy door open, the cool air of the villa greeting me as I stepped inside.

The interior of the house was just as grand as the exterior. High ceilings stretched above me, and large marble pillars lined the entrance hall.

The floors were a sleek polished wood, and modern art adorned the walls. But despite its luxury, the villa always felt... sterile. Too perfect. Too quiet.

Except for tonight.

As I walked into the living room, I spotted her immediately my grandmother, seated on the couch, her frail frame almost swallowed by the enormous cushions.

Her silver hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and she wore a soft lavender sweater that made her look even more delicate.

But despite her age, her eyes were sharp, twinkling with warmth and amusement as she looked up at me.

On the coffee table in front of her, a cake sat with the words Congratulations written in elegant frosting.

I smiled, my heart swelling with affection as I rushed over to her, practically throwing myself onto the couch beside her.

"Grandma!" I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the softness of her sweater against my cheek. "You didn't have to do all this."

She chuckled, patting my back gently. "Of course I did, my little star. You deserve to be celebrated."

I pulled back, looking into her face. She had always been the one constant in my life. No matter how chaotic things got, no matter how distant my parents were or how wrapped up they were in my brother's life, she was always there.

Her soft wrinkles framed a face that had seen so much but still held so much kindness.

"Thank you," I whispered, squeezing her hand. 

"You're welcome, darling." She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges.

"But where are my parents?" I asked, looking around the empty room.

"Oh, they went out with your brother. Something about a fancy dinner," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "You know how they are."

I sat back, trying to keep the irritation from creeping into my voice. Kael. Of course, they were with him. He was the golden child, after all.

The doctor. The one who could do no wrong in their eyes. It didn't matter that I earned ten times what he did, or that I was known all over the world. In their eyes, his success was the only one that truly mattered.

It had always been that way.

A small, bitter laugh escaped me as I thought about it. It wasn't like I needed their validation, but sometimes, just sometimes, it would have been nice to feel like they saw me. Really saw me. 

Grandma noticed the shift in my expression and reached over to pat my hand. "Don't let them get to you, Zaya. You've done more than enough to make anyone proud."

I nodded, appreciating her words even if they couldn't fully erase the sting. "I know, Grandma."

With a deep breath, I grabbed the knife and began cutting the cake. The soft, sweet scent of vanilla filled the air as I handed her a slice, taking one for myself.

We sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, the sound of our forks scraping against the plates the only noise in the room.

"By the way," Grandma said suddenly, her eyes twinkling with that familiar mischievous look she always got when she had news to share. "Did you hear? Your cousin is getting married."

I looked up, surprised. "Really?"

"Yes. And they're hoping you'll be there."

I took a bite of the cake, mulling over her words. Weddings weren't exactly my thing. Too many people, too much attention.

But I knew Grandma would want me to go. And maybe, deep down, part of me wanted to be there, too. Despite everything, family was still family.

"If I have time," I said finally, "I'll go."

Grandma smiled, satisfied with my answer, and we continued eating in silence. But my mind wandered, the thoughts of Kael, my parents, and the constant chase for recognition swirling in the back of my mind.

I knew I shouldn't let it bother me, but it did. And the thought of attending another event where I'd be expected to smile and pretend everything was perfect?

Well, that was a different kind of exhaustion altogether.